Hero
by Moonsetta
Summary: No one suspected anything.


"OK, old man, I'll shoot. Why aren't you showing up downtown to stop that chaos show that the Riddler is hosting?"

Nightwing had been just going past Wayne manor on his own patrol route when a call from Damian had swayed him towards his childhood home in concern. For the past few days Bruce hadn't hit the streets as Batman and the youngest member of their family couldn't deduce why his father was acting as he was. Nightwing's assistance was needed in the Batcave immediately!

So here he was, facing the back of the chair that Bruce was sitting in and trying to figure out what was wrong with his mentor/friend/father-figure/partner/ally or whatever the heck he was now.

The insistent typing on the keyboard stopped and a pale hand reached out sideways to hit a glowing blue key.

If he wasn't used to shock and surprises he might have jumped when the floor opened beside him and a large containment chamber rose out of the ground. Dick was shocked at the sight of the suit held inside of it. It was his old Bat-suit!

Except-it had been altered.

The underside of the cape now held a distinctive blue shade to the usual black color, the black bat symbol had been slightly enlarged, the eye holes had been widened, the cape was made of a thinner cloth than before, the utility belt was now double banded (able to hold twice as much) and the outside of the cape reflected a few blue sheens like the underside as well, though they were less consistent.

Oh boy-now he was confused! He turned his head back to the computer to find that Bruce Wayne was now turned away from the computer and facing him.

"You need me to fill in for you on this?"

Bruce nodded solemnly, "Yes, meet up with Robin at the Central Clock Tower before you head downtown. He's already waiting for you. Take the Batmobile."

"Uh, OK."

Getting into the refurbished Bat-suit was kind of interesting- the same material that made up his Nightwing suit lined the inside as it stuck to his skin and the armored material that made up the Bat-suit portion was thinned to fit his fighting style. The cape felt essentially different as well, it was so light that he barely felt it. It seemed to be a bit thicker at the bottom to add just enough weight so that he was aware that it was there.

As he drove out of the Batcave though, Dick could think of only one thing. Why hadn't Bruce been in his own Bat-suit? And the only reason he could think that Bruce would send him out was-

A test.

Another freaking test!

Dick muttered something about stupid 'pop quizzes' under his breath and then took off for the Central Clock Tower.

* * *

The 'Bat' should have turned around and high tailed it back to the hidden cave and made whatever meager attempt he could muster to convince the man otherwise.

Bruce glanced up at the screen, where an aimed camera was showing him the Batmobile leaving the vehicle entrance of the cave. After the armored vehicle was well out of sight though-he simply reached up and threw the switch that turned the computer off. He leaned back in his chair, an action so human that any observer from his vigilante life might have demanded a DNA test to ensure he was indeed Bruce Wayne.

Dark blue eyes scanned over the damp darkness of the cave and the blue orbs met the same color in an instant. He didn't remember getting up but in a proverbial flash, he had crossed the room where Dick had left his Nightwing costume draped over the manikin that had held the redesigned Bat-suit.

No one suspected anything.

Bruce picked up the suit, his eyes tracing the blue stripes that ran down the sleeves and continued on to the gloves. Glancing down he found the boots of the costume and kicked at them once before aiming and kicking them over the edge of the floor where he listened until they had hit and sunk beneath the stream that ran across the bottom of the cave and out into the Gotham River. He let the gloves fall to the floor and turned to head towards the elevator that would take him back up to the Manor, the Nightwing suit, first held and observed, now clenched and cursed, still trapped in his hands.

They didn't suspect anything.

* * *

Found this in an old notebook. I now wonder where the heck I was going with it.

For anyone who asks. I don't plan to continue.

~Moonsetta


End file.
